


And All That Jazz

by itslikepoetry



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: 1920s AU, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Flapper!Jyn, POV Jyn Erso, Pianist!Cassian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-12 20:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12967449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itslikepoetry/pseuds/itslikepoetry
Summary: In which Jyn is a bartender/flapper in a Speakeasy, and Cassian is a pianist that really gets on her nerves.





	And All That Jazz

**Author's Note:**

> This was for the "Rebel Captain Secret Santa" for my giftee, (@deadpanprincess on tumblr) who requested the prompt: "Jyn, a bartender, doesn't want to hear your feelings, Cassian". 
> 
> I was already excited, and then she suggested 1920s au and OH BOY HYPE LEVELS THROUGH THE ROOF!!!
> 
> It turned out to be a bit longer than I was anticipating, but I hope you like it!! (Also I apologize if there are some historical accuracies, especially in regards to language -- I took some liberties oops.)

Some people who came into the "Death & Co." Speakeasy were young, in search of a good time and a drink to get them dancing. Some people were old, in search of an escape and a drink to remind them they were still alive. Still others were lonely, in search of a partner to drag back to bed and a drink to get them there. There had been a girl once, in search of a drink to double her courage; there had been a Veteran in pursuit of a drink to make him forget the horrors he'd seen. Yes, Jyn Erso had served many a man and woman in one of the most popular Speakeasies in the city. She had not, however, served anyone quite as  _stubborn_ as the one currently ordering his fourth drink. (Or good-looking, if she was being honest. She had  _eyes_ after all. But his looks weren't really the most pressing matter at this point.) 

"Listen," she sighed, setting his refill lazily on the counter. "Not that I don't appreciate all  _this_ ," she punctuated the word with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But I've got a show to run, and our damn pianist hasn't even shown yet." The latter part was muttered under her breath, mostly to herself. That was her other problem (her first of course, being the man in front of her). Last night, their old pianist had quit to pursue "better opportunities" -- otherwise known as the higher-paying Blue Ruin bar -- and Jyn hadn't even gotten in a single rehearsal with their new pianist. Hadn't even seen his face. All she had to go on was a name: Cassian Andor. 

"Pianist?" The man's words were a bit slurred, even if he did seem to hold his liquor well. "I can play the piano."

"Really?" Jyn looked down at him with casual disbelief tugging her eyebrows upwards. "You play the piano?"

"Yes," the man nodded. For the first time, she noticed his calloused fingers tapping on the counter to the rhythm of the saxophone player and jazz singer currently in charge of the stage. "Quite well." 

Saw Gerrara -- the owner of the Speakeasy, who just so happened to be as close as Jyn had to a guardian -- had left her in charge for the night while he attended to _other_ business. Which meant it was up to her to make the decisions around here. And she really didn't have many options at this point. Already, the number that had taken to dancing when they'd come in were beginning to favor the area nearer to the door. Energy levels were dropping, excitement was slipping like sand through her fingers. Blue Ruin wasn't far -- if they failed to provide entertainment, even the strongest of drinks wouldn't be able to convince them to stay. Some of the charm of Speakeasies was in the thrill, in the breathlessness of breaking the rules. (It was a breathlessness Jyn often fought for, sometimes unwittingly.) Some of the charm was in the drink that could make you dance or forget or  _live_. But some of the charm was undeniably in the small community that formed, night after night, bound together by the music woven and the entertainment provided. 

"Is that so?" She tried for a flirtatious quirk of the brow. Might as well have some fun before asking him for a much-needed favor. 

"Yes," the man repeated. He took his drink and took a long sip before continuing, "I play the piano, and you need a pianist. It seems fate is working in your favor."

"No such thing as fate," Jyn fired off instinctively. She was both a bartender  _and_ a flapper -- she got used to fending off men's advances with a well-timed word or a well-placed kick. Still, she settled back into her easy smiles soon enough. There was something about the way this man held himself that told her he wasn't really a threat. (Not like  _that_ , anyway.) "But it  _is_ a stroke of good luck." Leaning over the bar, she propped herself up on one elbow and used her other hand to gently slip the man's drink away from him.  

The saxophonist launched into a solo with plenty of scales that seemed to lure a few dancers to the floor but it still wasn't  _enough_. Not for Jyn, anyway. For her, it was never  _enough_. 

Someone called for another drink but Jyn ignored them, instead staring into the eyes of the man in front of her. "You seem desperate," he said.

"You aren't saying no," Jyn pointed out easily. 

Something static loomed between them -- something Jyn couldn't quite put a name to. The man was magnetic, his gaze seeming to draw her in. The air was thick with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes that people didn't bother smoking outside. (Jyn had given up ushering them out long ago.) The tipsy chatter of a group of men to her left and the tittering of the girls dancing faded until it was as indistinguishable as the mumblings of the sea. For a split second, Jyn saw his eyebrows furrow together ever-so-slightly, saw his lips part to form a reply... 

"Cassian!" 

Jyn looked away sharply at the reply, leaning back again to see who had said it. It was a smaller man, with a ponytail and a sheepish grin. He seemed to have come from thin air, appearing like a will-o-the-wisp to tug at the man at the counter's sleeve. Slowly, Jyn began to put together the pieces of the puzzle. "What --"

The man at the counter --  _Cassian, damn it all._ The  _Cassian._ \-- looked over at his companion. "Bodhi? What is it?"

"I've been looking for you everywhere! We're on in five minutes!"

Cassian's eyes didn't leave Jyn's -- which had probably widened comically, but she really couldn't care less at this point. "I've been right here," he pointed out easily. "It wasn't that hard to guess, was it?"

Bodhi rolled his eyes, but the sheepish grin never left his face. "Come on!"

"I believe this young lady was going to join us," Cassian said, not budging even when Bodhi continued to tug on his arm. 

Jyn may have cursed quietly. Still, she motioned to one of the other bartenders to take her place near the front and followed the two musicians to center stage. "Don't think I'll forgive you for that hour of rambling on about your  _oh-so-difficult_ childhood," Jyn grumbled, accidently elbowing a patron. She didn't look back, even when the man let out a sharp yelp and nearly spilled his drink. 

Though she could no longer see them, Cassian's eyes no doubt darkened with his tone. "My childhood was more difficult than you could imagine. You've been spoiled rotten, having a daddy rich enough to afford a place like this."

No.  _No._ "You think my father owns this place? My father is  _dead_. Both my parents are. Saw took me in but not before I had to watch my mother die before my very eyes, so don't talk to me about  _difficult_."

On that happy note, they reached the stage. Cassian looked unshaken and the littler man -- Bodhi -- just looked highly uncomfortable as he picked up his trumpet. "Uh, I didn't catch your name, Miss...?"

"Jyn. Jyn Erso."

"Lovely to meet you, Miss Erso. I'm Bodhi Rook, the trumpet player, this is Cassian, our pianist, though you've apparently already met him..."

"I have, yes." Her words were snipped off like a string. 

"Right. Um, this is Baze Malbus, our bassist, and Chirrut Imwe, who sometimes sings. And --"

"--And I'm Kay Tu," greeted a tall man, sticking out a hand to shake. "Our other trumpeter. I would say it's pleasant to meet you, but I'd be lying."

Jyn wasn't sure whether she appreciated or was offended by his brutal honesty, and instead settled on shaking his hand before folding her arms over her chest. "Well, then. We haven't had time for rehearsal, so let's go with a favorite, shall we?" She named a song and situated herself where she ordinarily did for the number, taking a steady breath and placing a well-practiced smile over her features -- 

"No," came a voice from the piano, "Not that one."

It was all Jyn could do not to drop her smile. "Yes, this one. Everybody knows it."

Cassian named another number and before Jyn could argue the issue any further he had tapped out the first notes. Gritting her teeth, Jyn went through the motions as the crowd went wild, suddenly engaged once more. 

_Damn it._

* * *

Their performance -- by some miracle or trick of the devil (it was hard to tell the difference these days) -- became a booming success. Saw Gerrara informed her of it a few weeks down the road with the voice of Zeus and a proud pat on the back that ended up being more of a slap. For the sake of the speakeasy, Jyn gritted her teeth into what she hoped was a convincing smile and said she was glad and then she would continue showing up to their rehearsals and their performances, full of dread all the while. 

It wasn't that she disliked most of the band members -- Bodhi was sweet if a bit fumbling, Chirrut was wise if somewhat mysterious, and if Baze was gruff, well. She couldn't fault him for that. Kay, Jyn would roll her eyes at and ignore easily enough. A certain pianist, however, was more difficult to ignore. His commentary was commanding and she didn't like the feeling of control slipping through her fingers. It was  _Jyn_ who was supposed to be in charge not  _Cassian_ (who thought the exact opposite). Most rehearsals ended with Jyn slamming the door behind her on her way out.

It didn't help matters that she would see him at the bar on their rare evenings off, fumbling the line between tipsy and drunk. He would say things, then -- things about his past, his future.

("I always thought I was going to fly," he told Jyn one night, "but instead I'm stuck at this excuse for a speakeasy." Jyn had bristled and turned away to serve another, more grateful, patron.) 

("They left me," said Cassian on another night.

"Who?"  It wasn't Jyn who asked it -- it was the girl hanging off Cassian's arm that he didn't seem to notice but that Jyn couldn't  _stop_ noticing no matter how hard she tried.

"Everyone.")

Jyn tried not to listen to his drunken ramblings or his surprisingly poetic confessions. Because he was the jerk who thought he could boss her around. Because he was a complete  _ass_ and that's all he would ever be. 

It was a night about two months down the road when he  _did_ become something more. Just a little bit. He was sitting alone at the counter, which wasn't particularly surprising. On the nights when a girl wasn't hanging off him, he tended to prefer his own company (and, apparently, Jyn's). What was surprising was the fact that none of his friends -- or bandmates, she supposed she didn't  _really_ know how close they all were -- had stayed behind to spot him. On nights when he got particularly bad, Kay would drag him home or Bodhi would gently lead him out of the bar with a careful smile. 

Tonight, however, he was alone. 

"It's late," Jyn finally said. It really was. The only people remaining in the speakeasy were Cassian and herself. 

His eyes were threatening to close, his body threatening to slump off the stool when he spoke: "Kay will take me home." 

Setting down the rag she'd been using to wipe down the counter, Jyn scanned the room once again. "Well, where is he?" 

"He... left." The realization that settled on Cassian's face was less surprised and more resigned. "Just like everyone else. Always leaves..."

"He's not gone  _forever_." Jyn hesitated. She wanted to get home, wanted to get some rest, but there was a part of her that felt bad about leaving the obnoxious pianist behind. Just a  _small_ part of her. "Where do you live?"

"Why?" Cassian's expression settled into something of a smirk, but he didn't make the suggestive comment that Jyn had been bracing herself for. 

"Because clearly you'll need some help if you want to get there."  _Besides,_ she didn't add out loud,  _it's dangerous at this time of night._

"I don't..." he began, but Jyn found herself helping him off the stool anyways. She was shorter than him, but was still able to keep him mostly upright as they stumbled together out the door. Carefully, she leaned him back against the wall as she locked up. He'd nearly fallen over in just that short timespan, eliciting a sigh from the young woman, but she helped him again anyways, the two of them wandering the streets that never slept. 

Someone called at her from behind and she nearly turned around to tell the stranger off, but Cassian beat her to it, yelling at him to  _mind his own business_ and  _bother someone else, or better yet nobody at all._ Jyn couldn't help the way her lips quirked slightly upwards at the remark. Yes, she could have dealt with it herself, but it was actually quite nice not to have to, for once. 

"Where do you live?" Jyn repeated, the flickering streetlights casting the city in and out of shadow. There were still lights on in some of the stores they passed, causing a sense of almost urgency about the neighborhood. Shadowy figures slunk from wall to wall and Jyn did her best to avoid the alleys. The two of them were wandering aimlessly at this point. She was beginning to wonder why she'd even bothered, her legs aching, her own eyelids begging for some much-needed sleep. 

"I don't know," Cassian whispered. 

_Was he really that drunk, that he couldn't even remember?_

"That's not helpful." Jyn really was exhausted. They couldn't keep wandering for the rest of the night, but she also couldn't leave Cassian alone in the cold, where who knows what could happen. He might've been a jerk, but he wasn't  _evil_. He didn't deserve  _that_ kind of treatment. Before she really knew what she was doing, Jyn had redirected their path, more of a purpose in her step. 

"Where're we going?"

"Just shut up," Jyn snapped, but there wasn't as much of a bite in it as there normally was. Two blocks later, they'd arrived at her apartment and she'd dumped him on her single ratty couch, stretching her arms to relieve them of the tension she felt. "There. Good night, Cassian."

"Good night, Jyn Erso." His voice was surprisingly soft when he said it. 

She moved to her own room, but laid awake for a while. Cassian wasn't asleep yet -- she could hear him muttering to himself through the thin wall. When she finally fell asleep, it was to the sound of his voice. 

 

The next morning, rain pounded on the windows, begging to be let in, and she groaned, turning over in her bed at the sound of it. Hopefully, it would let up before the evening came. Though really, a storm might bring in more of a crowd. Which wouldn't be too awful. Still rubbing sleep from her eyes, Jyn let herself out of her room, craving a strong coffee and maybe some eggs when she stopped short. 

_Cassian Andor_ was on her couch. 

That damn pianist. 

Slowly, sleep began to fade from her mind, loosening it's grip enough to reveal the previous night's events. Right. She'd brought him here. He'd been drunk. He'd still had enough left in him to tell off the catcaller though, which had been nice of him...

"Where am I?"

Jyn startled, trying not to show her surprise at his being awake. The words he uttered came out with a groan. No doubt he had a nasty hangover. "Good morning,  _sunshine_ ," she drawled sarcastically. "Hope you slept well."

" _Jyn_ _?_ " 

"You were drunk," she moved to the kitchen, shuffling through one of the drawers. It was small, her little apartment. There wasn't much to it, and there wasn't much to the kitchen, either. "I don't know where your bandmates were, but they weren't there. So I let you sleep here. You should be thanking me." 

"Thank you," Cassian said. The gentleness in his voice made Jyn stop in her shuffling for a moment, made her eyebrows crease slightly. "Really, Jyn. I'm... sorry to have been a bother."

That was probably the first time she'd heard him apologize for anything, at least without a heavy dose of sarcasm to go with it. "You weren't a bother," Jyn said, and was surprised by the fact that she meant it. 

"I'll go," Cassian said. She heard the couch creak as he got up, heard the tiny intake of breath as he did so. Clearly, he still wasn't feeling well. 

"It's raining out," Jyn said, which was a pitiful excuse. She wondered if he could hear the real meaning behind it --  _you aren't fit to go out in your condition_. She wondered if he could hear the layer of meaning even deeper than that:  _I care_. "You can stay." 

"Are you sure?" 

He did end up staying, and Jyn found he didn't talk quite as much when he was nursing a hangover. (Though he did insult her cooking.) 

 

He went easier on her in the performance that night, letting her take the reins for some of it and even following her lead. If their success before had been booming, well. It was positively  _thundering_ now. In the following couple of weeks, more and more patrons would arrive each night. Orson Krennic, the owner of the rivalling Blue Moon bar, was  _furious_. Even the thought of that man growling, fuming, made Jyn perform twice as hard, the smile on her face more and more genuine each evening. And maybe her smile was growing because the directions of a certain pianist were growing more cooperative, more relenting when she made a suggestion of her own. 

He'd begun to drink less, Cassian. Jyn wasn't sure if she missed him or not. 

There was one night though, when he did stay late after a particularly grueling rehearsal. He'd sent the rest of his bandmates home, saying they deserved a break. Jyn had stayed, though, and they'd run through the number again, just the two of them, the music lifting her, drowning her, surrounding her.

Panting, she pushed her hair out of her face. "I should go. It's late."

"Right," Cassian agreed, moving from the piano bench, moving towards her. "Right. I should go as well."

Hesitant, Jyn nodded. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't want to go. She wanted to stay. "Right." 

"Jyn, I --" the words seemed to be almost a struggle for Cassian. He didn't break eye contact though, his eyes glued to hers just like they had been during their first meeting. "I never got to thank you." 

"Yes you did," Jyn said, her voice a bit breathless. He  _was_ rather close. "Remember?" 

"Not just for letting me sleep on your couch. Thank you for listening --" she almost protested. She almost protested  _I wasn't listening, because I don't care_ but she had been listening. Every night, she had listened despite herself. "--And for not leaving."

"Thank _you_ ," Jyn replied quietly. "For not leaving, I mean. I know what you mean when you said 'everyone leaves'. It's true." She wasn't sure why she was saying these things, only that Cassian had said them to her which meant that he  _did_ understand it. She had heard enough of his life story to know that he understood it. To know that if she let him, he would understand  _her_. "Everyone leaves." 

He stepped closer, closer, his voice quiet when he whispered, " _Not everyone_ " and then she closed the distance between them, gently reaching towards him, pressing her lips against his. Her hands travelled from cupping his cheeks to threading through his hair. He was soft, but so full of fire. Both of them were, maybe they both always had been. She opened her mouth against his, his hands gripped her waist, pulled her impossibly closer, and then Jyn drew away with a smile -- 

"No," she agreed. "Not everyone."


End file.
